


Not My Type

by coveredbyroses



Series: Birthday Drabbles 2018 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean Winchester, Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 04:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16078835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: The mission to bring Dean home doesn't exactly go as planned...





	Not My Type

There was a time when you would’ve sold your soul for a night with Dean Winchester. Hell, he wouldn’t have even had to work for it; all it would’ve taken was one of those lax half-smirks, one of those panty-melting winks.

But not now, not when sparkling green eyes have been replaced by two bottomless pools of inky-black.

“So whaddya say, honey?” the demon rumbles as he slants against the chestnut bar counter, his deep voice easily cutting through the layers of booming music and incessant bar chatter. “Ya wanna get outta here?”

“No thanks,  _stud_ ,” you say icily with a slight tilt of the head, narrowing heavily mascaraed eyes at him. “Evil’s not my type.”

“That so?” Dean smirks, swiping his glistening tongue over the decadent plump of his lower lip.

Before you can engineer another witty response, your stomach’s flip-flopping, brain pulsing against your skull, and it takes you several seconds to realize you’re no longer sitting on a barstool…

But on the edge of neatly made bed.

You’re in a motel room.

“What the  _fuck_ ,” you breathe, head swiveling on your neck as you take in the unfamiliar surroundings.

“Demon,” Dean grunts from across the room, casually leaning against the closed the door. “It comes with some pretty neat perks.”

Your head spins as you stand a little too fast, and you have to throw your hands out to steady yourself.

“Let me go, you son of a bitch,” you grit between tightly clamped teeth.

“Oh,  _sweetheart_ ,” Dean drawls, lifting off the door to take slow, predatory steps toward you. “You were the one who came looking for  _me,_ remember?”

“I want to bring you home, Dean. To Sam. He can help you—”

Dean tilts his head back as he laughs a deep chuckle. “Oh that’s cute, honey,” Dean sniggers, leveling dark eyes on you as he approaches. “S’real cute.”

He’s right in front of you now; bent at the waist, thick palms braced against his knees. So close you can feel his warm breath fan against you.  “Sammy can’t help me...but you on the other hand…” His lips stretch into a too-wide smile, jade eyes twinkling in the dim light. “You can help me. A lot.”

“Aww,” you smile, condescending, mustering all your strength into controlling the shake in your limbs. “The big, bad demon having trouble getting laid?”

Dean’s smile doesn’t waver as he blinks at you. “Oh, I’ve had plenty pussy around here, baby,” he nods before sweeping his gaze over you. “Just haven’t had yours yet.”

No-no-no...why is that making you wet?

“Too bad,  _baby_ ,” you shove back. “I ain’t open for business.”

“Really?” the demon rumbles, boldly running a heavy palm up your jean-clad thigh. “I’m not stupid,” he says low. “I’ve seen how you look at me…”

“That’s…” Oh god. His thumb is dipping down into the fleshy part of your inner thigh as his hand ascends.

You clear your throat, try not to focus on the plush cushions of his lips, try not to focus on the onyx of his eyes.

Try not to focus on how all of it is slicking you up underneath your panties.

“That’s not…” You gasp when skilled fingers pop the brass button of your jeans and tug down the zipper.

You whimper, words lost entirely as the demon shoves his hand underneath the elastic barrier of your silk panties, palm-up, thick fingers slipping right into your drenched folds.

“Oh  _honey…_ ” Dean rasps. “I think evil is  _exactly_  your type.”


End file.
